Two Gentlemen of Verona

Proteus. Already have I been false to Valentine
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him,
I have access my own love to prefer:
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
1635To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,
She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
When to her beauty I commend my vows,
She bids me think how I have been forsworn
1640In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved:
And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
1645But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window,
And give some evening music to her ear.

Host. Ay: but, peace! let's hear 'em.
1670SONG.
Who is Silvia? what is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair and wise is she;
The heaven such grace did lend her,
1675That she might admired be.
Is she kind as she is fair?
For beauty lives with kindness.
Love doth to her eyes repair,
To help him of his blindness,
1680And, being help'd, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling:
1685To her let us garlands bring.

Host. How now! are you sadder than you were before? How
do you, man? the music likes you not.

Silvia. You have your wish; my will is even this:
That presently you hie you home to bed.
Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man!
Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless,
1730To be seduced by thy flattery,
That hast deceived so many with thy vows?
Return, return, and make thy love amends.
For me, by this pale queen of night I swear,
I am so far from granting thy request
1735That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit,
And by and by intend to chide myself
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.

Proteus. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
But she is dead.
1740

Julia. [Aside] 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
For I am sure she is not buried.

Proteus. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,
1755The picture that is hanging in your chamber;
To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep:
For since the substance of your perfect self
Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;
And to your shadow will I make true love.
1760

Julia. [Aside] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure,
deceive it,
And make it but a shadow, as I am.

Silvia. I am very loath to be your idol, sir;
But since your falsehood shall become you well
1765To worship shadows and adore false shapes,
Send to me in the morning and I'll send it:
And so, good rest.

Proteus. As wretches have o'ernight
That wait for execution in the morn.
1770